


Better's All We've Got

by Jaysop



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Back rubs, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Caring!Sam, Crying, Emetophilia, Flashbacks, Fluff, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt!Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mild Blood, Nausea, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Sabriel - Freeform, Sastiel if you squint, Scars, Season 13 spoilers, Sickfic, So much comfort, Sobbing, Sort Of, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, Whump, but no actual abuse here, emeto, its all comfort baby, referenced use of needles, sick!gabriel, stomach rubs, ugh so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 04:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaysop/pseuds/Jaysop
Summary: Sam vows to stay by Gabriel's side during his recovery, and in the process faces some of his own demons.





	Better's All We've Got

**Author's Note:**

> This season has broken me and honestly I had to write this or I may have spontaneously combusted.
> 
> Also this was the longest one sided conversation I've ever written. Enjoy responsibly.

Castiel watched from the doorway. Balled up in the corner of the room, Gabriel raised his arms above his head in a defensive posture. When his attacker never manifested and the pain didn't come he cautiously opened an eye and peered through matted swathes of hair.

Sam had turned his back and was sitting on the edge of the bed, head down, making himself as unimposing as possible. It wasn't an easy illusion to pull off. Even slouched Sam looked like an awkward giant next to Gabriel on a good day, and this was definitely not a good day.

He tried to make himself smaller, less threatening. He became aware of his body language and the tonal shifts in his voice. He didn’t push. He had learned early on not to push. But Gabriel still retreated from him.

“Sam,” Cas said gently, a hand placed on his shoulder. “This isn’t working.”

Sam startled at the touch. He reached up to cover Cas’ hand with his own.

“He just needs more time. He’s in there somewhere, Cas. I know he is.”

Gabriel eyes darted back and forth, watching.

“What if he isn’t?" Cas said, sitting down on the bed. “What if he doesn't get any better? We’re running out of time.”

Sam knew that. He knew what was at stake. He also knew time was what Gabriel needed most. Time for him to build back his trust, time for him to lower the walls. Sam knew exactly how much time that could take.

“I’m gonna stay with him,” he announced.

Cas stood up. His eyes went from Sam, pensive but determined Sam, and then to his brother in the corner, shaking and terrified of the unseen. He barely recognized him this way, frail, weak and dirty, layers of abuse caked onto his skin. It was difficult to keep looking. It made his throat feel tight.

He turned to Sam whose eyes fixed on the floor between his shoes. Cas touched the side of Sam’s face and lifted his chin.

“We will find another way. You don’t need to do this.”

“No, Cas,” Sam said, “I think I do.”

***

The evidence was written all over his skin in sickening detail. Every punishment dealt to him lingered there in grotesque relief. Every humiliation, every broken piece of him a stark reminder, raised and heated. Sam's own scars ached underneath his skin in sympathy.

“You don’t have to sit up here,” Sam said as he retreated from the bed to his own corner of the floor. Gabriel eyed him with suspicion. “This is better, right?”

Nothing. Gabriel brought his knees closer to his chin and buried his face. Sam was already feeling a twinge of pain in his back.

The thought had crossed Sam’s mind that Gabriel could be playing him. It had happened before. Perhaps he was making him sit in uncomfortable silence and seeing just how long he would go along with it. Any minute now he would return to himself with a smug smile and a joke.  Any minute now.

It was Gabriel’s eyes that made him throw the whole theory right out the window. If this was a long con it was the most convincing one he had ever managed to pull off.  Somewhere in the walls the sound of the air kicked on and Gabriel jumped.

“Hey, hey it’s ok,” Sam said, “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you, ok?”

Nothing soothed him. Sam held onto a small hope that talking to him would eventually help. So he just kept talking. Even if it was just to himself, he kept talking.

“You're safe here. I promise," and then, “Gabriel, do you trust me?”

Gabriel muttered something. He still didn’t open his mouth to speak. It was as if the phantoms of those stitches Sam had removed from his lips still sealed them shut.

“Listen, this place is so heavily warded nothing is getting in here, ok? And even if something did they'd have to get through me first."

Gabriel seemed to be listening, Sam thought, because he was quiet when Sam talked. It was the long periods of silence that brought restlessness, muscle memory forcing his defenses back up. He hid his head and whimpered. 

Sam had to actively fight the urge to go over to him. It was a long interval before Gabriel had quieted again to the sound of Sam's voice.  

“See, you’re ok. I won’t let anything happen to you again. I promise you that.”

Sam watched him. Hours past like this and Sam wondered if Cas was right. But even if he was and Gabriel was broken beyond repair, leaving him was not an option. Sam knew that look. It was the same one he saw in his own reflection, the same desperate need to be saved, the same fear that there is no way back from the dark.

***

Sam was jolted awake by the sounds of someone close.

Not far from him, Gabriel had curled on the floor. He made small sounds of discomfort now and then, a hiss pain or a whimper through sealled lips.  Sam froze momentarily. Gabriel was within arm’s reach and he had moved there on his own.

He had wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to self soothe, hands gripping the torn edges of his filthy shirt. The sounds he made were muffled like the soft keening of a wounded animal.

Old bruises, yellowed with age along his knuckles contrasted against the newer ones that blackened his exposed arms. Sam followed them until they disappeared inside his shirt.

“Gabriel.” Sam barely whispered it.

Gabriel’s eyes opened, darting up to meet Sam’s. He didn’t shy away. Sam crouched there with a hand reached out to him, palm open. Suspicion flashed across Gabriel’s face.

“It’s ok,” Sam soothed. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Sam steadied his hand, hovering there in the space between, until the silence vibrated with need. When Sam was sure Gabriel wasn’t going to run from him he made the first contact and gently pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“See, its ok. It’s ok.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and let Sam stroke the side of his face, smoothing back his tangled hair. The contact was the first since Sam had removed the stitches. His touch was painless this time, warm and cautious. Dried blood flaked from his cheek and Sam felt the choke of tears begin to strangle in his throat.   

“Alright,” Sam said. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

Gabriel hummed and closed his eyes. He allowed Sam to touch him, to card through his hair. Emboldened by this Sam crept closer and began to rub the length of Gabriel’s back, slow and even. 

“See, I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” Sam said. “Please, Gabriel. Let me help.”

Big hands swept over him, felt every knob of vertebrae, fingers dipping in between their peaks and valleys. Ribs jutted out along his sides, raised and rigid, and Sam counted each one as his hands ventured further.  Soft scars lined his shoulders, some fresher than others.  It made Sam's stomach turn.

“Fuck, Gabriel, what did he do to you?”

The first glimpse of recognition that Sam had witnessed lit up in Gabriel’s glassy eyes. Sam cupped the sides of his face and held his gaze.

“It’s over now, ok? He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re never going back there. Ever."

Tears pooled  at the corners of Gabriel's eyes as Sam spoke. They overflowed at last and gathered warm at the tip of his chin.

"It’s over now," Sam repeated, "It’s over, Gabriel. It’s over."

Gabriel threw his arms around Sam's neck.

Sam wrapped himself around him, careful not to hold to tightly, worried that his strength would be too much. He felt Gabriel shaking, sniffling back tears. He grabbed two fistfuls of Sam’s flannel and held onto him, ugly whole body sobs pitifully muffled into Sam’s clothes.

“Shhh, it’s ok. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” Sam repeated, "I've got you."

On the floor Sam rocked, gently repeating his quiet ministrations, arms wrapped protectively around Gabriel, riding out the depth of his breakdown until they hit the bottom together. His sobbing devolved into lonesome moans and whimpers interrupted by coughing fits. His cries sounded in the empty bunker like echoing howls. When he beat his fists against Sam’s sides, Sam let him do it. Sam rubbed his back. He whispered to him and held his head, until Sam tasted salt on his own lips. Gabriel choked through his tears until he couldn’t breathe. It was a deep and gutteral saddness and soon it overpowered him until there was nothing left.

“Breathe,” Sam coaxed, rubbing circles into Gabriel’s back.

Gasps escaped in intervals in between uncontrollable sobbing. The fight had drained out of him and he slumped against Sam, giving over to another coughing fit. The last cough cut deep and wrenched up a strangled gag. It tore at the pit of Gabriel’s empty stomach.

“You’ve got to try to calm down,” Sam said, “Please, Gabe, breathe.”

Gabriel coughed more violently, choking from the burn of stomach acid in this throat. He was torn between the urge to breathe and the urge to moan, each one vying for position in between coughs. He let himself feel everything, the shame, the bright hot pain, and the moment he surrendered to it. He gasped when the emotions hit like a boot to his chest. With gathered strength he wrenched himself from Sam’s grip and lurched forward with a deep gag, head lowered into his lap. 

“Oh, Gabe, it’s ok,” Sam said, a protective hand rested on the space between his shoulders.

Gabe sat up, a long line of salvia hanging from his mouth, hands cupped and full of what looked like water and stomach acid. He managed a few gasps of air before his stomach turned and he retched. He brought up more water, clouded with bile. It was thick and made him choke and sputter until the next twist of his stomach brought up another wave of sick.

“Ok,” Sam said quietly, “You’re ok. I’m here.”

He moaned and it was a helpless sound. Sam pushed the hair from his face with gentle fingertips. Underneath his cheeks were stained with tears, slightly cleaner streaks of skin revealed in tracks where they fell.  He whimpered and then strained forward into another retch. It ripped through his stomach and throat and ended up dry.

Gabriel had reached the bottom of his despair and being sick had shocked him enough to try to climb back out of it. He sucked in great gasps of air clawing his way back. Panting hard, Gabe blinked through a wave of dizziness, his vision blurring. Sam caught him just as his head tilted back.

“Gabe, stay with me, come on,” Sam said holding Gabriel’s head up.

When Gabriel’s vision fizzled back to life he blinked wearily up at Sam. Sam, whose expression was all concern, his eyes rimmed with red. Sam, who was holding him, despite the mess and his putrid clothes and his bloody broken body.  Gabe let his head drop against Sam’s chest, let his eyes close and sighed deep. He sank inside the warmth of the embrace, let himself relax in the safety of the arms that still circled around him.

 “Shhh,” Sam whispered, “It’s ok. It’s ok. I’m here.”

He held him until the shaking stopped. Gabriel nestled his head under Sam’s chin, finding comfort in his warm breath against his hair. Sam stroked his thumb along the line of his temple.

“I know how much you’re hurting,” Sam said his voice low, “but it’s gonna get better. It will. I won’t lie to you and tell you that you’ll wake up one day and be the same as before but,” Sam stopped, a small hitch in his voice, “but it will get better. And really, better’s all we’ve got.”

Gabriel had closed his eyes. He listened to the words muffled low through Sam’s chest mixed with his heartbeat thrumming rhythmically in his ears.  

“And you’ve got people that care about you,” Sam said tears slowly rolling down his cheeks, “And people that depend on you. Gabe, we’re not...I’m not gonna leave you. You’re gonna get through this. You’re not alone anymore. And as long as I’m still breathing, I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you like this again. Never.”

Exhaustion swept over him. Sam’s words vibrated against his skin like white noise. Slowly, he let himself slip under and for the first time since his rescue, Gabriel slept.

***

Underneath fluttering eyelids Gabriel was chained again, helpless and dirty, neglected in a damp and filthy cell until the need arose in his abuser to seek him out, to take another little piece of him away. His body recoiled from the pain, a needle jabbed into inflamed skin, tender enough that Gabriel saw stars.

He woke with a start and pushed away instinctively towards the arms that held him.

“Whoa ok, it’s just me, remember?” Sam said, holding up his hands.

Gabriel blinked up at him, his heart still racing, a hand to his neck where the needle still stung. His eyes darted around the room, and then back to Sam, the realization of where he was slowly sinking in.

Sam didn’t make a move. He waited for him to calm before gesturing towards him.

“You’re in the bunker,” he said reaching out to him. “Remember, Gabe? You’re not there anymore. You’re here in the bunker, with me.”

Gabriel inched closer until Sam could reach out and pull him the rest of the way, gathering him up into his arms. His shoulders were still tensed, waiting for punishments that didn’t come. Sam wrapped him in his strong embrace until he felt the smaller man relax. Enclosed in his arms Gabriel relented and let Sam stroke through his hair gently brushing it back out of his eyes.

 “It was a nightmare,” Sam said, fingertips carding through, grazing his cheek.  “You’re here with me now. And I’m gonna protect you.”

Gabriel shivered, darkened patches of cooled vomit still damp through his clothes. He moaned and clutched at Sam, trying to steal his warmth.

“You know,” Sam said breath warm against the top of Gabriel’s head where his chin rested, “You might feel better if you let me clean you up a little.”

Gabriel looked up at him, his eyes glassy, rust colored lines stark against pale skin. His eyes widened a little.

“Nothing major, ok?” Sam said, sensing the apprehension, “Just maybe get you some clean clothes. Maybe tackle this rat’s nest huh?”

Sam playfully tousled Gabriel’s hair and smiled down at him. Gabriel sighed and then gave Sam a nod.

“Ok,” Sam said getting up. “Dean should have something that will fit. He’s not gonna like it but we’re also not gonna tell him so--”

Sam didn’t even make it two steps towards the door when a hand grabbed the edge of his shirt.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam said reassuring him. And then, “Alright, how about you come with me then.”

Gabriel followed behind Sam closely, looking around the bunker’s halls suspiciously. He held the edge of Sam’s shirt the entire time, bumping into him now and then. When they arrived at the kitchen Sam lead him a chair.

“It’s ok,” Sam coaxed. “Here sit down.  I’m gonna get some supplies.”

After rummaging through the cabinets Sam returned with the first aid kit and a big bottle of peroxide. He sat across from Gabriel who eyed him suspiciously.

“I just want to get some of these cuts cleaned up, ok?”

Gabriel watched as Sam loaded some gauze with peroxide. He shied away when Sam dabbed at the edge of his cheek.

“Do you trust me?” Sam asked and Gabriel sighed. “This might sting a little. I’ll stop whenever you want me to, ok?”

Sam worked slowly, dabbing at the dried blood on Gabriel’s forehead and up into his hairline. Each time Gabriel winced Sam stopped as he had promised he would. It was slow going but it was also layers of caked on blood and dirt, brown against the stark white gauze.

“Just a little more, Gabe. I’m almost done.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth and allowed Sam to continue. Slowly, Sam dabbed at the deeper cuts, pulling a little hiss of pain from Gabriel. He made sure he wasn't rubbing too hard at the tender skin. Soon, Gabriel began to resemble himself again, his abused vessel looking more like the archangel Sam remembered.

Looking around the kitchen Sam grabbed a stainless steel mixing bowl and let Gabriel look into it.

“Much better right?”

Gabriel hummed, fingertips touching his cheek and exploring his reflection.

With a hand at his back, Sam gestured for him to stand. He pulled the kitchen chair over to the sink.

“Here, kneel down on the chair. That’s it, now face the sink.”

Armed with dish soap and the sink’s spray attachment, Sam had Gabriel tip his head underneath the flow of barely warm water. Years of dirt and grime mixed with dried blood rinsed away, circling down the drain. 

“I bet that feels pretty good," Sam said when Gabriel let out a sigh. "There, now some soap. Keep your eyes closed.”

Sam squeezed the blue dish soap into his large palms and massaged it into Gabriel’s matted hair. Gabriel fully surrendered to Sam’s care, letting the hunter separate his tangled hair and wash away any lingering signs of his imprisonment.

“That’s it, keep your eyes closed.”

The water rinsed the rest of the filth from Gabriel’s long hair. When he was finished Sam dried it with a kitchen towel.

“So much better,” Sam said, looking Gabriel over. He combed his fingers through and tucked Gabriel’s hair behind his ears. Gabriel hummed his approval.

“Now for some clean clothes.”

***

In Dean’s room, Sam riffled through his brother’s dresser, finally settling on some old gray sweatpants with a drawstring and a black t shirt.

“These should fit I think,” Sam said handing the clothes to Gabriel. He turned to leave the room to give him some privacy to change, but Gabriel grabbed his hand.

“I’ll be right outside the door. It’s ok. Get dressed.”

Gabriel’s eyes pleaded with him not to go.

“You're kidding, right?"

Gabriel’s eyes were fixed, anxiety rising in his chest at the thought of Sam leaving him alone.

“You’re not kidding,” Sam said as he turned back to the archangel sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him.

"Alright. I’ll help you. Just don’t make it weird later, ok? "

Gabriel just stared up at Sam with this quiet reverence that made his heart ache. “Gabe, just...lift your arms, ok?"

Gabriel did as he was told and slowly Sam peeled the layers of filthy clothes over his head, tossing them onto the floor, some of the fabric sticking to old wounds.

"Should probably burn these," Sam muttered getting the t shirt ready to take their place.

Gabriel shivered, his skin fully exposed to the air. Revealed to Sam was the extent of his abuse. It was a very accurate record of the torture he had endured, every last inch of it. Tracks lined his neck and the insides of his arms, some old and healed others fresh and pink. What parts of him weren't bruised were lined with scars of various lengths and sizes, dried blood crusted over the worst spots.  

Sam couldn't look at him anymore. He swallowed hard against the bile that had begun to rise in his throat. He slipped the clean shirt over Gabriel's head and helped guide his arms into the sleeves, tugging at the worn fabric to cover his back.

“Ok, almost done,” Sam said as he shimmied the pants down Gabriel’s legs and pulled them off. “Come on Gabe. I know there’s some lewd remark that you’re just dying to get out.”

Nothing. Gabriel was looking up at him. He didn’t speak a word but watched Sam’s face as he helped him step into the sweatpants, two sizes too big, and tighten the drawstring.

On the edge of of the bed sat an angel in Dean's clothing.

Somehow he seemed even less like the old Gabriel than before. His eyes seemed clearer and with his hair and face cleaned up he looked more like himself, but it was still all wrong.

Gabriel’s stomach made a long groan. The sound surprised him. He clutched at his stomach and looked up at Sam.

“You’re just hungry,” Sam said as Gabe’s stomach let out another gurgle. “This is normal. You need to eat.”

Gabriel moaned and swallowed hard, the thought of food making him nauseous.

“Trust me, your stomach just hurts because it’s completely empty,” Sam said. “Probably why you’re so dizzy too.”

Another moan, Gabriel still clutching protectively at his tender stomach.  He coughed into his fist and then stifled a gag.

“Alright, come on,” Sam said lifting him to his feet. Gabriel pulled away but Sam insisted. “Trust me, ok. This is going to help.”

***

Back in Sam's room, Gabriel sat cross legged on the bed, taking tiny slow sips from a bottle of water. Revisited was a tray in his lap with a bowl of broth and some white bread slices. With some gentle persuasion Sam got him to swallow a few spoonfuls and try a bite of the soft bread. It seemed to go down easy enough, soothing the hunger pains.

“You’re doing good,” Sam coached, as Gabriel started to dig into the bread with relish. “Pretty hungry, huh?”

Finished with the bread, Gabriel took the bowl of broth in both hands and tipped it back.

“Ok, slow down,” Sam said a hand on his shoulder as Gabriel finished the broth in three huge gulps. “There’s more where that came from.”

Gabriel handed the bowl to Sam and let out a contented burp. Sam smiled and wiped the broth from his chin.

"Feel better?” Sam asked, still smiling. Gabe took a few more gulps of water until that too was finished. He let out another satisfied belch.

Sam took the tray off his lap and set it back on the dresser.

“So Gabe, do you think you're even gonna talk to me?" Sam asked, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside him.

Gabriel looked up adoringly at Sam and said nothing.

Sam let out a sigh. It was some kind of defense mechanism, something years of imprisonment and torture had permanently kicked on. It wasn't something you bounce back from in the first night of freedom, he knew that. He just hoped for everyone's sake that it happened sooner rather than later.

"It's ok if you don't want to talk," Sam said, hand rested on Gabriel's leg. "I'll still be here, you know, when you're ready."

Another belch ripped from Gabriel's throat but this time it sounded sick. He moaned and clutched at his stomach, eyes lifted to Sam in quiet desperation.

"Ate too fast huh?" Sam said reading the discomfort on his face. "Its ok, just try to lie still. You’re just not used to having something on your stomach. The full feeling will pass."

Gabriel's stomach gurgled loud enough for Sam to hear it. He was looking to Sam, hoping that he had some solution to this, because panic lit up his face.  Sam tenderly slipped his hand underneath the archangel’s shirt.

Gabe winced at first, until the pressure of Sam's heavy hand began to feel good on his cramping stomach. He wasn't accustomed to eating and drinking and feeling full. And he certainly wasn't accustomed to being nauseous or feeling like he needed to be sick. It was generally all new territory and he relied on Sam to help navigate him through it.

"Is this helping?" Sam asked gently. Gabriel wasn't sure. It felt good but it also made him burp more frequently each one tasting more and more like broth.

The queasy feeling started to worsen as he tried to sit still, Sam monitoring his decline, worry knit into his brow. Gabriel let out another burp but this time a splash of broth came up with it. In absolute horror he covered his mouth and leaned forward.

Sam acted fast and grabbed the empty soup bowl off of the dresser where he had left it. “Here, it’s ok,” he soothed, coaxing him to put the bowl into his lap. “Just in case.”

Gabriel moaned through gritted teeth. His stomach felt heavy. Sam was rubbing up and down his arm, trying to soothe him. Without warning he lurched forward, back arched in an awkward spasm, and threw up into the bowl.  

“Oh, Gabe. Its ok,” Sam said a steady hand on his back.

He coughed and spit into the bowl in his lap, liquid sloshing inside of it. Another sickly burp came up bringing with it a flood of broth and undigested bits of bread. He couldn’t hold any of it down. Gabriel retched loudly, chunks of bread getting caught in his throat. He coughed them up, followed by a wave of liquid.

Involuntary tears lined his face. The urge to gag again made him shudder. Sam was close, swallowing back hard against his own nausea at having to watch, but trying to offer support at the same time.

“Alright, just breathe through it Gabe,” he whispered, rubbing up and down his back.

Gabriel still panicked, his sides aching from the effort. His throat burned and he coughed hard, a wet sounding belch at the end bringing up the last of his meal splashing into the bowl. He wasn’t sure if he was finished, and eyed Sam wearily when he removed the bowl from his lap.  

His stomach heaved and he covered his mouth with his hand. Nothing came up. Sam returned to his side, face full of concern. Gabriel heaved again, coming up dry. Sam gathered him up and held him through a few more gags and dry heaves that were stifled now against the hunter’s chest.

“Shhh, Gabe, it’s ok, it’s over.”

Sam wiped the tears from his face with the pad of his thumb. Gabriel was limp, all the strength drained out of him. Sam cradled him in his arms and without really thinking much about it, he kissed the top of his head.

“It’s ok, I’ve got ya,” Sam whispered.

Worn out from the ordeal, Gabriel closed his eyes and curled against Sam. He clung weakly to his side, a few more dry heaves happening between long and tired groans.

"Shhh, try to rest, Gabe," Sam whispered. “You can sleep in here for tonight."

Sam settled back against the pillows, his charge heavy in his arms. He switched the table lamp off. It was never complete darkness, dim lights glowing in the hall.

"Get some rest," Sam whispered, pulling the blanket up over Gabriel's back. "Things will be better in the morning."

***

Sam woke up to Cas standing over him, head tilted quizzically. The archangel Gabriel was still curled up in Sam’s arms, a leg thrown over Sam while he slept. He seemed to be softly snoring.

Cas eyed the bowl on the dresser. “I guess eating didn’t go so well,” he said sitting down on the bed. “How is he?”

Sam shifted. Every part of his body was pins and needles. With some dextarity he was able to untangle himself from Gabriel's limbs and detach his fingers from the collar of his t-shirt.

“He’s hurting,” Sam said covering him back up with the blanket. Gabriel blinked up at Sam catching his sleeve. His eyes pleaded with him not to go.

“I’m not going anywhere. It’s ok. I just have to pee.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “This is an interesting development."

"It's been a long night," Sam said making his way to the door. Gabriel's eyes went frantic as he sat up in bed and reached out for Sam.

Cas was looking him over. When Gabriel finally noticed he shied away.

"I'll stay with him," Cas said showing Gabriel his open hands in a gesture of good will. "But maybe you should make it quick."

Cas tried to talk to Gabriel for the short time Sam was gone. He didn't seem to remember who he was or want anything to do with him for that matter. He wondered what Sam had done to gain his trust so relatively quickly.

Sam returned with three mismatched mugs of steaming coffee. Cas took his and blew across the top.

"He still isn't talking?”

Sam shook his head. He handed a cup light with cream to Gabriel who took it in both hands and sniffed at its contents. He wrinkled his nose at it.

"Try it, Gabe. Its sweet. You'll like it," Sam said.

Cas sipped at his coffee, a morning ritual he had picked up from living at the bunker, that was more comfort than caffeine. He found it helped him focus. He watched Gabriel take a very tentative sip.

“We’ll find another way,” Cas said, eyes raised to Sam who looked like he could use more sleep. “That’s what we do.”

“Yeah, I know we will,” Sam said, eyes never leaving Gabriel. “I know we will. I just…I’m not giving up on him, Cas.”

“He seems to have made some progress,” Cas said. He watched Sam’s worried expression. He knew that look. He knew it meant Sam was invested. He knew it meant he wouldn’t stop, even if it seemed hopeless.

They sat in silence, the early morning hours bringing clarity but also a hollow ache in Sam’s chest. Sam sipped at his coffee, lost in his thoughts.  

And then, a voice ragged but familiar.

“This…is the absolute _worst_ cup of coffee I’ve ever had,” Gabriel said.

Sam’s smile was as wide as the sun. “It is?”

“What are you trying to do sasquatch, poison me?”

 Sam let out a breath and in two beats was hugging the archangel, spilling coffee all over Dean’s pants.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you dear readers for making it to the end. I'd love to get some feedback on this one as its the first time I've ever written Gabe and I'm wondering what you all thought.
> 
>  
> 
> [ or come rant at me on tumblr](https://jay-sop.tumblr.com) and for more emeto things [hit up my side blog](https://little-known-secret.tumblr.com)


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